The Power of Presence: Loving Through the Fear of Losing Each Other
When illness enters a relationship, love is tested in unexpected ways. This reflection on my husband's cancer journey and Jordan & John's {THE AND} conversation is a reminder that the most healing gift we can offer is presence, even in the face of fear.
One of the most terrifying thoughts. The possibility of losing your partner, your confidant and best friend, too early. I myself struggle with these thoughts on a daily basis. Ian, my husband, was diagnosed with cancer when he was 21 (before we met). He won the battle against it, but it could just pop up again at any point in time.
If there’s anything I’ve learned from my husband’s diagnosis it’s that presence and listening are key to navigating such a difficult situation.
I decided to ask him what were some things that he needed and would have appreciated in the time he was battling cancer, and this is what he had to say:
- Personal space: There were moments when he didn’t want to be strong or inspiring or even talk at all. He just needed the freedom to be alone with his thoughts, without pressure or performance. Not everything needed to be shared or solved in the moment, and being given space to feel whatever he was feeling was a gift in itself.
- Patience and grace: Healing isn’t linear, and neither is the emotional rollercoaster that comes with a diagnosis. Some days were hopeful, others were heavy. And sometimes he would overreact or explode easily. He was irritable, and understandably so, his body, mind, and spirit were under immense pressure. What helped most was not being rushed through any of it. Just being met where he was, again and again, without judgment or expectation. This is normal. And giving someone the grace to be human in their process, even when it’s messy, is necessary.
- True friendship: Beyond the roles of patient or partner, he still wanted to feel like a regular human. To laugh about nothing. To talk about something other than cancer. To be invited into moments of lightness and joy. Friendship reminded him that he was still more than the illness.
- A support system: He didn’t need people to fix anything. He just needed to know they were there. Sometimes that meant someone bringing over food, or offering a ride, , or watching a movie together, or just checking in with no agenda or asking “how are you feeling today?”. The kind of support that is steady and simple but makes all the difference.
- Someone to talk to: There were very serious matters he wanted to discuss with someone, anyone. And I don’t mean in the medical realm, more of an existential approach to the diagnosis and everything it implied. He needed a space where he could explore his fears, his questions, and his truth, without having to protect anyone else’s emotions in the process.
Now, of course every process is personal and unique in its own way, for both the person with the diagnosis and their partner(s), but at the end of the day the most important thing, and the common denominator in my husband’s answers, is the same: presence.
And that’s exactly what Jordan and John remind me of. Their {THE AND} conversation is an honest, tender portrait of what it means to stand beside the person you love when the ground beneath you is shaking.
After ten years together, they’ve weathered so much. Their relationship started with a slow, sweet crush neither of them confessed right away, and yet it evolved into something deeply rooted. When Jordan was diagnosed with cancer, their love didn’t break. It transformed.
What you’ll witness in this conversation is not just a couple grappling with fear and uncertainty. You’ll see two people making the daily choice to face it together. You’ll see the quiet strength that comes from patience, deep listening, and letting love shift shape, becoming softer, deeper, more real.
John shows us what it looks like to support someone with gentleness and steadiness. Jordan shows us the courage it takes to be vulnerable, to speak her truth, and to let someone truly walk alongside her in the hardest moments.
This video is not about cancer. It’s about love. The kind of love that holds your hand when the future feels like a question mark. The kind of love that does not turn away when things get complicated. The kind of love that listens without needing to fix. That stays. That sees.
To anyone who has walked this path, or is walking it now, may you feel seen in this story. And may you remember that presence, in all its quiet power, is the most healing force we have.
With love,
Regina Zuniga
The Skin Deep Digital Content Specialist
